Red Queen: The Blue Palace
by Not Harry
Summary: The Tri-Wizard is revived once more. What challenges will this bring Rose, Scorpius, and Albus? What new shadows lurk in the Wizarding world? Rose x Scorpius Albus x OC


**Corbin Goyle**

**21 June 2023 (Wednesday)**

**11:03AM**

Corbin looked about the unfamiliar living room, in which he was now seated. The walls were painted in a warm mocha; small framed pictures of his mother and her new husband dotted the walls, they seemed to all be happy, smiling or laughing at a silent joke. The soft couch cushion that he was sitting on felt like steel wool, the walls felt as if they were inching in to capture him, crush him in their unwelcoming joy, and the pictures that weren't laughing seemed to stare at him, a concerted effort to push him from this place. It wasn't his home, of course, but he hoped he could stay, despite the oppressive glee of this room.

He had been disowned, out right, that past winter. He had refused to return to Goyle Manor for a Christmas visit. The visit would have been a farce, trying to live in an Ogden's Finest bottle-littered rat's nest for a full week while every curse was flung in his general direction; refusal had been an easy decision to make, at the time. His father had gotten off of his whiskey-soaked arse, hobbled to Gringott's, gotten the paper notarized, and served to the Malfoys. Corbin was no longer part of the ancient and 'dignified' House of Goyle. The penalty may have weighed on Corbin's mind, but that was in the past.

Now he was here, in Manchester, in his mother's flat, trying to convince her to take him in. He was a bundle of nerves as he fiddled with the crease of his slacks, newly bought, and straightened his tie again. Emmalyn had helped him pick out and buy the clothes for today. His mother walked in with a tea tray; a simple white pot with two mugs, sugar, milk, and a package of plain biscuits, she set it down and took a seat opposite her son.

"You look well," he hadn't called her 'mother' in years and he was not going to start now. "How far along are you now?"

"Almost at five months." She said as she poured herself a cup, she didn't do the same for Corbin.

"So, I'm going to have a little sister." Corbin took the pot after she had set it down and poured his cup. "Just like you had wanted."

She nodded, her hand drifting across the noticeable swell of her belly. "So, what is it you want? Money? That drunken bastard must have been bled dry by now."

"No, I wouldn't ask that of you." He said as he stirred milk into his tea, then he looked up. "He disowned me. I need a Name to continue to go to school and to get a job afterwards."

The woman that he had previously known as Mother, now only as Sandra, sat with an indecipherable expression on her face.

"I-I want to live with you and Michael." Michael was her husband, a fairly wealthy importer of magical beasts. "I could help out when the baby comes, I wouldn't be here for most of the year, and I'd move out as soon as I found a job. We could be a family, we could-"

"No." She said plainly.

"What?" He knew what she had said. He had trouble understanding how she could so easily turn him away.

"No, Corbin. This is my life, my family, and I don't want you in it." Sandra said, and she then took a long sip of tea.

"I'm your son." Corbin stood as he visibly shook. "Please, I need you, Moth-"

"Don't ever call me that again, you impertinent bastard." His 'mother' said flatly. "Now get out or I'm fire-calling the Ministry."

Corbin stood there for a moment, attempting to find some salvageable means of civility. Her brown eyes met his, he hoped that she would rethink her words, but a chill ran through him instead. Those were the same eyes from when she had left that overcast day in summer and he had begged for her to take him with her, the eyes that he still had nightmares about. Corbin knew there was nothing he could do to change her mind or her heart.

"I wish that kid a lot of luck… she'll need it." Corbin said as he turned to the floo, a mug whizzed by his head as he reached for the powder. He didn't turn to see the look of pure disgust and hatred stretched upon Sandra's usually beautiful face, he just said 'Malfoy Manor' and left that woman to her life. She was a stranger, just as she always had been.

**Scorpius Malfoy**

**21 June 2023 (Wednesday)**

**11:15AM**

Scorpius brushed a bit of soot from his shirt as he entered the Weasley living room, a muggle shirt that Rose insisted he buy when they went to London with her family last summer, he didn't like it. It looked cluttered. The random insignias of some 'skateboarding' company crashing and covering the front, though he admitted that it fit nicely and he didn't mind the attention he received from his girlfriend when he wore it.

"Oh, hello, Scorpius!" Rose's mother said with a deal of enthusiasm that he was unprepared for. "Rosie is upstairs for your study date."

"O-oh. Where are you heading off to, ma'am?" Scorpius didn't like when Rose omitted certain details, her mother with her purse over her shoulder was a clear indication that she was about to leave.

"Ron and I are taking Hugo to see a muggle film. Rose said that with NEWTs coming up you two should stay here and study." Hermione said as she stuffed a rain slicker into her bag, somehow it didn't bulge. "I was worried that girl wouldn't have her priorities in order, what with her scores on the OWLs."

Scorpius was confused. Rose had gotten an 'O' in every subject except for Potions, and with Vane leaving after getting married and getting another job offer, there shouldn't be any more problems there.

Hermione took the boy's silence in a different way. "It's not that I think that you're a distraction, Scorpius. I just know that she is capable of more and I want her to have every chance in life."

"Of, course, Misses Weasley. She's the brightest witch I know." Scorpius said, a blush rising in his cheeks.

"You're a lot like Ron in some ways, Scorpius." Hermione gave him a smile that reminded him a lot of Rose, warm but with a hint of mystery that made his stomach churn.

"Who's like me, 'Mione?" Down came Mr. Weasley, his hair was a bit thin but still as red as ever, and Hugo stood behind him, the youth seemed a bit forlorn.

"I was just telling Scorpius that he reminds me of you, dear." Hermione said as she ran up to her husband and gave him a peck on the cheek.

"Oh." Ron returned the kiss and continued towards the Malfoy boy. "You wouldn't mind if I talked to you for a moment, Scorpius, would you?"

"Ron, we should get to the theatre." Hermione gave her son a hug, before turning to her husband.

"It'll only take a moment, 'Mione. I don't want to curse him, just talk a bit." Ron said as he put a large mitt on Scorpius's shoulder, gripping a bit firmer that was necessary.

"That's fine, Mister Weasley." The two of them left for Mister Weasley's study.

Scorpius waited for Mister Weasley to take a seat behind an aged-looking maple desk in a supple plush arm chair before he took a seat in a simpler wooden chair, though it was very decoratively carved. Mister Weasley took a moment, appraising the Malfoy before him. It reminded Scorpius of Rose when she was ready to attack him. People take a lot of their cues from their parents after all, even if it was mostly subconscious.

"Scorpius, how long have you been seeing my daughter?" Her father said as he leant over the desk, occupying as much space as he could.

"Almost six years, sir." Scorpius replied, looking unaffected by Mister Weasley's display of dominance.

"What do you think of her?"

"She's really amazing. Intelligent, beautiful, and independent, they don't get better than her."

"Hmm." Ron rested a bit, allowing the chair to take him in. "Where do you see this going, Scorpius? Be truthful."

Scorpius cleared his throat. Being truthful would be disastrous; he couldn't say that he wanted to marry her as soon as they were legal, or that he sometimes debated himself on whether the city or the countryside would be better for a growing family. No, no, being a bit non-committal was best. The Manor could accommodate the large family he dreamed of, but it might not be progressive of him to want that.

"That's really up to Rose, Mister Weasley." Scorpius gave a weak smile as his future father-in-law glowered at him.

"That's true, Scorpius." Ron stood from his chair and began to leave, Scorpius turned to keep himself engaged. "I shouldn't keep Hermione waiting."

"Of course. Have a good time at the show." Scorpius said as he stood and followed at the just slightly taller man.

Misses Weasley quietly admonished her husband as she gathered up a handful of green dust. His grey eyes fell on Hugo; slumped shoulders, tightened muscles, and frown that hinted at inner turmoil. 'He was pretty popular last year. I think I caught him in a few broom closets. I'll ask Rose what's wrong later.' The majority of the Granger-Weasley family left in an emerald blaze and Scorpius began up the stairs.

He came to a plain white door and he gave three small raps on the heavy elm wood. A small voice leaked through the crack beneath.

"They're gone?" He heard Rose ask, though it was slightly muted.

"They just left."

Scorpius heard the click of heels on wood and then the brass lock of the door moving out of place. The door was slowly pulled in to reveal his girlfriend. Rose Weasley had grown since fourth year. She was now an above average five foot six. Her hair was still a dark auburn, curls hanging down to her fuller breasts, a small B-cup that she was awfully proud of. Scorpius rather liked her legs; long, sinewy, creamy coloured with a sweet taste.

Her torso was enveloped in black lingerie. An enticing blue lace trimmed the edges of the garment and a set of black garter belts, which led down to black sheer stockings and blue patent leather heels. A pair of blue cotton panties with an asymmetric black lace overlay on the left side of her pelvis was the final touch.

"S-so, no studying today?" Scorpius stuttered out. He was mentally kicking himself for still acting like the young adolescent that he was certainly not.

Rose answered with a silent shake of her head, her ringlets tousling along. Scorpius swallowed silently, he felt a hunger stirring with him that he had hoped would have remained at bay that morning. The door opened just a bit more as Rose turned away from him,_ 'Merlin, her rump looks divine in those knickers.'_ He thought as she strutted, not to the bed as Scorpius had expected, but rather to a satin armchair. His girlfriend must have transfigured the chair for an assignment and had decided to go beyond the call of duty. He could tell from the ornate floral patterning and high-quality look. The Malfoy felt bad for whatever rodent had been enlisted for this project.

He left the door open, no one was going to be coming by now, as he approached. Scorpius carefully waited for some kind of indication of what he was supposed to do. He knew what needed to be done, of course, his clothes needed to come off and then her clothes and then some kind of safe word would be established. Then he'd be introduced to what they would be doing that day. Rather routine, in actuality. But right now, his mind was floating about in a tide pool of uncertainty, under the direct control of that vixen of a Weasley girl.

**Ron Weasley**

He really couldn't shake that feeling, just at the base of his neck, that itchy sensation that something was amiss. Hermione must have noticed, she just had a way with understanding his non-verbal language, as she let her tiny hand slip into his. That seemed to soothe the itch and he was able to calm enough for the previews, he still thought they were non-sense, why would you just tell everyone what kind of film you were making? It made no sense to him, but most times the movie was alright. Ron reached into a bag of muggle candy that rested in his lap and ate a few pieces, it wasn't anything like Honeydukes, but they were still sweets.

Somewhere, after the second tearful reunion and the third Frenchman, that itch came back to roost. Ron sighed, he wasn't enjoying the movie, but he knew Hermione was. If he was a muggle, he would have wondered how she had

packed that many tissues. Hugo was off doing… teenager things, somewhere in a different theater.

"I'll be off to the loo." Ron said as he rose slowly.

"You don't need to tell me, Ron. Just go." Hermione said as she made room for her lumbering husband to pass.

Ron skittered out of the theater, quickly down the hall to the men's. He checked the stalls, no one. Perfect. He turned and was back in his living room. It was quiet, but that only seemed to confirm his suspicions. Suspicions of what, he wasn't sure, but they were certainly being confirmed. He gingerly ascended the stairs, after quickly surveying the kitchen and his study, on the landing he heard a sound that sent a chill down his back. His daughter was in trouble, he sprinted up the last set of stairs, came to Rose's door and cast a blowback charm on it.

"Rose!?" Ron said as he rushed in.

"H-hey, Mister Weasley…" said a deep red Malfoy, as he slowly pulled out of the man's daughter and attempted to cover himself with a pillow.

After sliding beneath the sheets of her bed, Rosie accioed some clothes and began to put on a pair of underwear that Ron could not believe Hermione would have let her buy and a set of sweatpants beneath the sheets she had gathered.

Ron really had no idea of what to say. He had some guess, but he was sure that it would have come out a thread of cursing and threats to the young man's life. He was tempted, of course.

"You two, wait here." The father grumbled as he turned his back in order to apparate and to go gather his wife.

As soon as he left, Scorpius began to shake; Rose gave him her hand to calm him, her other one found its way to his lap, but the Malfoy ignored it. His life was flashing before his eyes.

**Bijou Zabini**

**13 June 2023 (Tuesday)**

**11:29PM**

**_[[I had to take some liberties with the Ministry elections because it's never expressly addressed. Ministers are elected, but the mechanism is never really described or seen in action. Based upon, Cornelius Fudge's pre-occupation with the views of the media and the common people, I believe it is a direct election rather than a parliamentary system or a Wizengamot vote.]]_**

The whole house at Godric's Hollow seemed to be alive; buzzing with activity, quieting as voting results trickled in from the Wizarding Wireless News, and then growing again to a fever pitch. Albus's cousins were all there, the Longbottoms, the Malfoys and Corbin, a few of Mister Potter's friends from his work in the Ministry. Even Clovis and James had portkeyed in from America for the election results. Bijou and Albus were now entangled on a love seat in the living room as some of the United Kingdom's most powerful wizards and witches chatted about the results so far and the delicious cooking by Misses Potter and her sister-in-laws.

"It's weird, isn't it? It seems like not too long ago that you were just some quiet boy at the House table, now we're here waiting for your dad to be declared the new Minister of Magic and we're about to go back to Hogwarts for our final year." Bijou reminisced.

"Yeah, not too long ago I saw the most beautiful girl in the world." Albus said wistfully and then he placed a soft peck on her cheek.

"You're such a bootlicker." Bijou sighed.

"I think that would be Scorpius." Albus replied. Rose had shared a couple of her and Scorpius's more risqué adventures, though with great protest from the blond masochist.

"Th-pfft-that's awful." Bijou guffawed, stopping suddenly and primping herself as a politician seemed to look at her.

"Why are you doing that? They're politicians; we don't have to impress them."

"Still…" Bijou just didn't want to be looked down upon; it was her pureblood upbringing at work.

"I don't get to say it often, but Bijou, my dad is Harry Fucking Potter." Albus gave her a firm kiss on the lips. "And once the results are in, I'm gonna sneak a bottle of Firewhiskey and we're going to celebrate the right way."

"You promise?" Bijou looked up at him with those sweet chocolaty eyes.

"Yeah." Albus smiled through a strong blush, she really was beautiful.

Bijou was wearing an aqua blue dress with a very conservative cut just over her knee; she had brought a shawl that was now hanging on a coat rack. Her body was all curves, her hips catching up to the buxom chest she had become notorious for in their fourth year. Her hair was still short on most days, framing her soft cheeks, plump bottom lip and slightly upturned nose, just a bit of a wave in it. Albus put his hand softly onto her exposed knee, a slight intake of air from Bijou encouraged him, but just as he was about to explore the Zabini's plush thigh, an aide from the campaign burst into the room.

"The results are finally in from Wales, they're calling the election for Mister Potter!" The self-important prick screamed; Albus really hated him, his name was something like Danbury. He couldn't make a pot of tea, but the bastard seemed to think himself next in line for a Ministry position.

"Meet me up in my room, Bijou?" The girl stood and nodded, Albus lent down and gave her a peck on the lips. "I'll go pilfer some Ogden's."

"Alright, Mister Son of the Minister." Bijou gave a cheeky grin as she headed for the stairs, giving her butt a little wriggle as she departed.

"Merlin." Albus said before sauntering over to the open bar, shaking a few hands along the way, and then he grabbed a liter bottle of Ogden's Old Firewhiskey.

He sped up the stairs passing his sister's room where she was likely already asleep, she never had a flair all of these political gatherings. Albus always thought that a bit paradoxical, especially with how the Hufflepuff seemed to act as if the world revolved around her. James and Clovis were still down stairs, they'd been off playing in America for a team in Massachusetts, and Misses Potter was likely still badgering them for details about their new lives in America. Albus came to his room, a yellow star with his initials painted on a white door that he had decorated as a child, he wanted to change it but his mother adored it so he left it alone.

He opened the door to find Bijou looking at a book shelf, appraising his collection of Quidditch Monthly and issues of the Prophet. He liked the stuff his mother had written, though he could hardly remember most of the players she had profiled.

"Sorry, I'm not really much for literature." Albus said. Bijou twirled about quickly in surprise to see him face-to-face.

"No, no. My brother's room was the same; magazines and the odd Prophet Quidditch section." Bijou gave him a small smile. "You're very focused on your craft. Where are you thinking of playing? Clovis said quite a few teams were looking into signing you."

"Ugh. Can we leave that?" Albus said, unscrewing the bottles top and taking a swish.

"Alright…" Bijou took the bottle after Albus offered it, taking a sip and setting it on a desk. "I mean, you're really good. Of course a lot of teams would be looking to sign you-"

"Please. Bijou. I don't like talking to the managers or the coaches, they fire-call almost every day. I just want to celebrate a bit with you and then get some sleep." Albus took the bottle and drank some more. "I-I don't even want to play if it's like this! I'd rather be an Auror or something."

"Then why don't you do that?" Bijou placed her hand on the lapel of Albus's robes. "I've been looking into Auror schools this break."

Bijou was second in the year in Defense Against the Dark Arts, six years of studying with the son of the Great Harry Potter did things like that.

"No matter what I want to do, I'll always be compared to my father, or my mother, or my brother. Who knows what Lily wants to do, I'll probably be second to her too!" Albus had drunk just a little too quickly, he was swaying a bit now and his speech was just starting to slur.

"You're just as amazing as your family, Albus." Bijou wrapped her arms around Albus's neck, planting a kiss on his lips. "I know you'll do amazing things as well, people will remember your name. For whatever you choose to do with your life."

"I love you." Albus planted his lips on hers again. His hands reached around her, unzipping the dress which fell in a heap at her feet.

Bijou sat on the edge on the bed waiting, not like a lapdog, more akin to a pincher patiently anticipating its reward, as Albus removed his robe. Robes fit him much better than his brother, all lean muscle and sharp angles, not an ounce of fat more than necessary. It was a menace to try to remove, especially in his slight inebriated state, but soon Albus was only in his slacks, and Bijou was only in her knickers.

Albus placed a passionate, if a bit sloppy kiss, on Bijou's lips, pushing her onto the bed from her perched position. His left hand framing her face as his teeth pulled at her lips between pecks, while his right rose up to claim her bosom as his. A tender grip drew a soft sigh from Bijou; Albus followed that with tight squeeze to her breast which pulled a desperate moan out of her lips, his lips crashing hard to seal in it.

He broke the kiss then and Albus stripped that nasty bit of cloth and nylon that let you see all but her most supple flesh. His lips came down on this new pasture, grazing the soft folds, his tongue lapping at every delicious drop that came to him. The younger Potter boy could just make out the sounds of rapture from between two soft thighs, as Bijou's muscle seemed to simultaneously flex in some attempt at escape. The plier-like grip relaxed and Albus stood, he had had to kneel before the bed to have a proper view, and he looked down on the panting, sweating mess of his lover.

"You wouldn't be satisfied unless I put it in, would you?" Albus asked, he had worked through most of the liquor. No slur to speech, only desire.

"Just do it, Potter." Bijou could just barely smile. Her body was still a bit unresponsive as it sometimes was after cunnilingus.

Albus slipped in with ease and slowly began to slide within her, taking various angles while trying to engage the whole of Bijou's main erogenous area. Bijou could feel the warmth grow and spill throughout her veins, her boyfriend had grown quite adept at this. As Rose had speculated their first time had been less than magical and quite painful actually. But Albus had been more considerate their second time, making sure she was ready and had already enjoyed herself quite a bit before the main event, and he seemed to only get better. Now he was hitting a spot, just on the inside of her pelvis, that made her mind go fuzzy and her toes curl.

Albus reached down and gathered the Zabini girl into his arms, continuing to pound into her. Bijou hadn't noticed his touch, her skin was already tingling with electricity, but she could smell Albus. He smelled a bit like the Firewhiskey that he was sweating out, but also his trademark scent of broom polish and toffee.

**Neville Longbottom**

**6 August 2023 (Sunday)**

**7:23AM**

The Herbology professor, Headmaster pro temporar, wasn't a drinker. He had had his times in school and the Auror academy, he found that herbal tea often calmed him more than any drop of Odgen's could, but still he found himself shakily bringing a glass of fire whiskey to his lips. Two letters sat before him, both coming within minutes of each other by owl; one congratulating him and the other admonishing his inexperience.

The liquor didn't help either. It couldn't change reality, it wasn't a time turner. So he stood wobbly, he wasn't drunk, the shaking had grown. He turned and stuck his head into the fire.

"Ministry of Magic, Harry Potter."

"Extension code, please?" A very disinterested female voice asked.

"Snake slayer." Neville wasn't sure if that was the code. But Harry would have likely chosen something from their Auror days, a little nickname.

"Thank you. Minister Potter will be with you momentarily." The voice replied.

Neville sat there silently lamenting his actions. He took another sip of firewhiskey, there was nothing he could realistically do now. His station had quite a bit of power and he made a mistake, now it was written in stone.

"How have you been, Neville?" Harry said with a smile, though the tension in his face showed his worry. Neville wouldn't bother anyone with a less than catastrophic event. "Sorry about the wait, the Muggle Minister was less than excited to see me."

"Not well, Harry. I brought back the Tri-wizard." Silence, besides the crackle of the fire.

"What do you mean exactly?"

"I went for a drink with the other Headmasters, they wanted to celebrate: Karkakov and Marcielle. I shouldn't have, I gave an unbreakable that Hogwarts would participate in the next Tri-wizard." More silence.

"... This couldn't be a misunderstanding?" Potter took to massaging his temples.

"I just got two letters, one from the Beauxbatons's board of governors thanking me for the tournament and another from Karkarov calling me an idiot, not that he isn't right in saying it." Neville sighed. "I fucked up, didn't I?"

"Not the best show of leadership. Why are you telling me?"

"I'm hoping we can do our utmost so that there isn't any loss of life. Harry, this doesn't have to end like it did at Hogwarts, we can take measures to make sure of that." Neville's words held some spark of enthusiasm, but his face remained grim, as if he stood at the gallows.

"I have to meet with my Heads to get ahead of this." The young minister, being only in his forties was quite young for the position though there had been younger, smiled weakly. "We should get caught up on better terms. Dinner sometime before the term? We can get the kids calling you 'Headmaster'."

"Please, no. I'll take the invite though, Hannah would love to I'm sure." Neville smiled, thinking of her pretty little wife.

"So, next week would be best?" Harry adjusted his glasses.

"Yes, I have to get the castle ready after that and appoint a temporary-temporary Headmaster." Neville held back a chuckle.

"Ah, I almost forgot about that. Taking care of Hogwarts, not the Tournament."

"I'll have Hannah take care of the RSVP, make sure that Hermione and Ron come by. I haven't been keeping touch like I would like to."

"Of course. I couldn't keep Ron away if I tried." Harry smiled warmly.

**Rose Weasley**

**21 June 2023 (Wednesday)**

**1PM**

'Merlin.' Rose thought, 'if there is anything more awkward to talk about with your parents than sex, people would be dying from it.' Contrary to her thoughts however, Rose was the most composed person in the room; her mother wore a deep shade of pink as she attempted to admonish the young lovers, said lover was sweating bullets and shaking nervously, and her father sat with the look of a dementor victim. Scorpius was huddled in a sheet, he hadn't collected enough of his wits to decide to put on clothes.

"- I mean, what if you had gotten pregnant? Merlin forbid, you might have had to drop out of school. I mean, they don't teach the charm at Hogwarts, damned conservative cretins on the board of Governors. Not your father Scorpius, he has been rather helpful with some reforms that were very necessary for the school." Scorpius was still semi-catatonic, so no offense was taken. "Really this may be my fault, I should have taught you the charm or at least how to brew a simple contraception potion-"

"I know the charms, I've been using them for nearly three years, mother." The daughter piped over her mother's tirade against the Wizarding world's prudish view of sexuality.

"-and those trashy magazines they sell to you girls, I-I, what?" Hermione turned to her daughter.

"Scorpius and I have been sexually active since our fourth year." Now all three sets of eyes were staring at her. "As for sexual education, I got plenty from upperclassmen and literature. As to why didn't you teach me those things, mother? Because you thought I was going to be your little Rosie forever? I'm nearly an adult and I can make my own choices, I don't need you or Dad criticizing my life."

"Rose..."

"Y-young lady!" Her father rousing from his stupor of disillusionment bellowed. "You will not speak like that to your mother! Rose, you never came to us f-for any guidance on this, this matter."

"Why don't I just leave!? My birthday is during term, I can find a place to live for the Summer."

"Aw, sweet!" Hugo could be heard from the staircase. "I get two rooms."

"Hugo!" Hemione yelled at her son. "Rosie, where would you go? What would you do for money?"

"Scorpius would let me stay at his place. Wouldn't you, Scorpy?" Rose turned to her boyfriend, fresh fear in his eyes as all focus was on him now.

"Yeah, Scorpy, wouldn't you?" Mister Weasley rumbled in a voice that didn't mark the words as a direct threat, but the Malfoy did feel his life was in danger.

A small hand found her husband's shoulder. He looked up and knew to back down.

"Alright. Fine, you want to be more independent and we should accept that. We'll allow you to stay with the Malfoys-"

"Now, hold the muggle phone!" Ron stood himself up from the chair.

"Ron! Under the stipulation that you have separate rooms and there will no more of this funny business until you both have graduated. Understood?"

"That sounds reasonable to me, mother." 'It's not like you can record my actions once I'm out of here.' She thought.

"Fantastic! Now give me your hand."

Her mother said as she reached for her daughter's palm. She mumbled a few words as small bands of light wound around their hands, growing tighter with each murmured word. She stopped and the bands disintegrated into the air.

"Wh-what was that!?" Rose asked very concerned.

"Oh, just a small ward, if you have sex before you graduate, both me and your father will be notified. Immediately. Just some insurance, darling." A sardonic smile sweeping across her mother's lips.

Rose smiled, but internally she was ready to tear her hair out at the root. What the hell was she to do now?

**__A/N: I'll start writing again soon, within the week. The plot should start **


End file.
